


Blackened Dove, Raven Turned White

by shatteredcrystalwings



Category: Tokyo Babylon, X -エックス- | X/1999
Genre: Anal Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hate Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Self-Hatred, Some dub-con, set after tb before x, sex as self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22322794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredcrystalwings/pseuds/shatteredcrystalwings
Summary: Haunted by old memories, Subaru ventures into the night only to happen upon an old enemy.Hatred fills him, the desire to destroy, but it's not aimed at the person who stands before him.And so he invites him home.
Relationships: Sakurazuka Seishirou/Sumeragi Subaru
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	Blackened Dove, Raven Turned White

The door clicked shut behind him. 

Subaru knew this was wrong. His instincts were telling him to fight, to flee, but his desire was telling him _stay_. Like a dog, he obeyed.

He had been feeling off for days, weeks. _Years,_ the voice in his mind whispered. _You’ve been off since she died._ The hotel room he’d rented felt too small, his body too constricted, his hands too fidgety. And so he’d gone out, following his shikigami as it lead him to a wayward spirit that needed help crossing over. A murder victim, he had found, killed in an abandoned building not far away, her body left rotting amidst graffiti-covered walls on a ground littered with beer bottles and snuffed cigarettes. 

He had been too late to save her. Someone else was there already, her partially translucent neck clenched between fingers. Any cries she might have uttered were muffled by the second person who would kill her. “Amazing how small the world is,” Seishirou had said when their eyes met. 

It was there that his instincts began to scream, and it was there that his desire drove him to rebel. “I could have saved her,” he said, voice quavering.

“She was dead either way.” 

It was an echo of something Subaru had said once himself, a whisper in the dark when he had still been a child. _“Does what I do make any difference? Do they remember it in their next lives, that I saved them? Aren’t they cast into the void nonetheless?”_

 _“They remember,”_ Hokuto had told him. _“They feel it, even if they don’t know it. They feel that someone cares.”_

Those words had driven him forward on heavy steps, broken glass crunching beneath his shoes as he closed the distance between himself and Seishirou, fisting a hand in the taller man’s collar. He would have tried to shove him against the wall if he believed he had the strength. The man had smiled. The man had whispered “kill me.” The man had known he didn’t have the strength.

The click of the door behind his back felt like the slam of a jail cell.

They were in his hotel room, that too-small room only feeling all the more crushing with the both of them present. Seishirou had said nothing in reply to Subaru’s utterance of “come with me.” He had not asked where. He had had no reason to. After all, he had seen the look in Subaru’s eyes. 

“I could kill you right now,” Subaru said.

“But you won’t,” Seishirou replied. 

He hated that he was right.

He slipped his jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He undid one button on his shirt, then another. He didn’t think about who was watching. He let the shirt join the jacket.

Seishirou made no indication of acknowledgement, eyes following him silently. He said nothing, and Subaru was glad for it. Let him pretend he was doing this with someone else. Let him pretend that the vision before him was no more than his imagination, as it had been so often before. 

He crossed to where Seishirou stood by the window. Their eyes met, and he got on his knees. There was the clinking of metal as a belt was undone, a zip and a rustle of fabric. Movements Subaru was used to. When he took him in his hand, he found him soft, and a part of him was angry for it. He gave a tug, intentionally too hard, delighting at the hiss of pain it elicited from the man above him, and then took it into his mouth. 

How many times had he done this to other men, wishing for it to be him? How many times had he cursed himself for such wishes? Well, here it was granted, and here he cursed himself, hating himself as much as he hated Seishirou.

 _Forget what happened_ , the voice told him. _He isn’t the Sakurazukamori, he’s Seishirou-san. He’s the man who helped you, who smiled at you. He’s the man who laughed as he helped Hokuto-chan cook dinner, the knife in his hand no more threatening than a flower. He’s the one you knew then, not after. He’s the one you fell in love with._

But there was no fooling himself. He serviced the man who had killed his sister, did so willingly, and he hated himself for it.

Hands tightened in his hair, and he wished for them to tear his head clean from his body.

The cock in his mouth, hard now, twitched. The hands pulled him off it.

When his eyes met Seishirou’s, there was anger in them. 

The hands in his hair disappeared, one reappearing a second later on his neck, and for a moment he believed he was about to be killed. He put up no resistance. 

Instead, that grip threw him face down onto the bed, leaving him coughing as a body was suddenly over him, yanking open his own belt before tugging the back of his pants. He felt the bunched fabric dig into his thighs painfully as he was exposed, and he readied himself to feel a sharper, more tearing pain. Instead, the body behind him disappeared. Disappointment flooded him and he wanted to punch himself for it. “Open yourself for me,” Seishirou said, and a small bottle of clear liquid landed on the sheets beside him. “Let’s see if your ass is better than your middling attempt at head.”

He rolled over, meeting Seishirou’s gaze with a glare, wanting to give at least the illusion of not wanting this as much as he did, even with the evidence standing erect between his legs. He grabbed the bottle. He wasn’t gentle with himself; he never had been. Seishirou wouldn’t be. Seishirou _wasn’t_. He slid one slick finger into his hole and, as soon as he got it in to the knuckle, he prodded his entrance with a second, barely wasting time before he began to scissor himself open. With a peek at the girth waiting impatiently for him, he added a third. 

Then Seishirou was leaning over him again, roughly grabbing his wrist to pull his hand out of him, only to be met with a kick to the chest. “Wait,” Subaru said, hating how breathy his voice already was. To his shock and annoyance, Seishirou listened to him. “Not here.” 

Seishirou’s eyebrows raised in question as Subaru stood, shucking his jeans off fully, and he walked to the wall where he placed his hands above his head and spread his legs shamefully. 

“Do you not want to look at me?” Seishirou asked, his voice drawing quickly nearer until it was a breath against his ear. “You don’t want to look at the face of your sister’s murderer, even as you willingly offer your own body to him?” A hand snaked around his hips and clenched around the base of his cock, drawing a choked noise from his throat. “Even as you spread your legs for him like a common whore? The great prodigy reduced to a hole waiting to be fucked?”

A shiver ran up Subaru’s spine. “Just get it over with,” he said as if he wasn’t eager for it. As if he hadn’t initiated it.

The invitation was taken. A pressure appeared at his entrance and wasted no time in breaching it, sharply pushing to the hilt with an urgency that drove Subaru fully against the wall. The hands that held his hips were crushing, digging into his flesh as they pulled him more firmly onto that cock that pistoned in and out of him at a breakneck pace, punching gasps and moans from his lips even as he bit them closed. A mouth came down on his shoulder, teeth digging in deep enough to break skin, and he barely held back a yell.

He could feel himself getting close. It was almost over, and then he could yell at Seishirou, turn him away, hate him the way he was supposed to. 

But then Seishirou pulled out, grabbed him again by the hair and forced him to the bed, forced him onto his back. For a moment, he didn’t register what was happening. Why would he change positions now, when he could feel that Seishirou was almost fit to burst as well? But then Seishirou’s eyes were only inches from his own, hand moving to hold his wrists hard enough that he couldn’t wiggle from their grip.

Before he could stop him, Seishirou’s lips met his. There was no crushing fervor to them, no _need_ behind the act. The movements were languid. Careful. _Loving_.

_No._

The lips dipped to the junction under his jaw, finding the pulsepoint there, and began sucking careful bruises into the skin. One hand released from his wrists and moved instead to his chest, thumbing over his nipple in a way that went straight to his dick. 

_No, I don’t want this._

“Let me take care of you,” the Sakurazukamori said in the voice of the man Subaru had known before he knew the truth. His hand glided down Subaru’s stomach to his cock, stroking it with all the care of a devotee.

_Don’t do this._

There was the press at his hole again, but this time it entered slowly, making sure he felt it as pleasure rather than pain. The thrusts that followed it were a controlled rolling of hips that rocked him in time with the strokes that continued on his own member.

_Don’t make me love you again._

Just before he reached his peak, Seishirou’s lips moved against his own again and, this time, Subaru moved with them. He moaned a plea into the other man’s mouth, wishing that this could be all they were. Not enemies vying to kill each other, but lovers, plain and simple. He felt his mind cloud, his body spasm with his climax, and he parted their lips slightly as a name escaped his own unbidden.

The body above him stilled and his eyes that had closed in his pleasure opened again. 

Cruel amusement watched him. 

And then a hand came crushing around his neck. Hips snapped, pounding into him. He cried out, he screamed. The dream was ripped from him as he felt the spill of release inside, marking him in an unspoken declaration. _“You are my plaything to do with as I wish. You always will be.”_

Sated, Seishirou pulled out of him, his cum dripping out like blood from a gunshot. He looked proud, and Subaru hated him for it. 

He hated him.

That was how it should be.

“Get out,” he uttered, voice hoarse from his own lustful moans. Or maybe it was the prelude to the sobs that would surely come. He wasn’t sure which.

Seishirou stood, tucking himself back into his pants. He had never taken them off, still fully dressed, and Subaru suddenly felt more naked than he had in years. He pulled the sheets around himself like a shield. “Get out,” he repeated, “before I decide to kill you.”

The Sakurazukamori smiled, and Subaru felt like an idiot for ever believing to see kindness in it. “Let me know if you feel like doing this again,” he said, turning the knob to leave. “I’ll be happy to degrade you further.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw art yesterday of Seishirou biting the back of Subaru's neck and... yeah. I apologize for writing this but hey, you're the one who chose to read it.
> 
> [my tumblr](https://bizarrequazar.tumblr.com/) || [my twitter](https://twitter.com/bizarrequazar/)


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